


Marcy

by TheIceQueen



Series: Tired of fighting [13]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Boss/Employee Relationship, Burns, Caretaking, Desus - Freeform, Family, Family Issues, Friendship, Gen, Injury, POV Original Character, Pain, Past, Protective Daryl Dixon, Protectiveness, Reveal, Secrets, Sweet Daryl Dixon, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: -- Timeline: Marcy has lived in the house for six months --Marcy is the outspoken funny, domestic-worker in the Dixon-Rovia household. She injure herself in the kitchen and Daryl had to help, with the best care-taking skills he has. Soon they realize that they have more in common than either of them thought.(If you haven't read the other stories, I suggest that you read chapter three [Marcy] in the work [One Calm Day] you don't have to, but it gives a little insight.)





	Marcy

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a long time since I've added to this series, and for that I apologize. 
> 
> If you are one of those amazing who have read the other stories: Keep in mind that this is BEFORE [Another Hospital], just trying to keep you less confused. ;-)  
> (If you haven't read the other stories, I suggest that you read chapter three [Marcy] in the work [One Calm Day] you don't have to, but it gives a little insight.) 
> 
> This work fills the [Burns] prompt on my Bad Things Happen Bingo-card.

”Hey.”

Daryl was home from his hunt early. Just her luck that he would show up right now. She turned her back at him and put her other hand under the faucet too.

“It smells good, what are we having?”

Marcy was about to make dinner, and had made dessert first, since it should cool a bit. They always had desert on Thursdays, since she was off work every Friday and every other weekend. She’d just taken the pie out of the oven. It hadn’t gone as planned though, now she couldn’t take her hand from the cold water running over it.

She cleared her throat. She’d let out quite the string of profanities not long ago and it had left her throat raw. “Cherry Pie.”

“Great! Love that.”

Even when using most of her energy to conceal the pain shooting up through her arm, she let a smile form on her face. He did. He really did love that pie.

Daryl went for the fridge and instinctively Marcy turned and tried to cover the fact that she wasn’t washing her hands. The big guy lingered and closed the refrigerator-door way too slowly for Marcy’s comfort. The beer he’d just taken out was placed on the desk next to her.

“What are you doing?”

Trying to figure out a smart response took too long. Daryl leaned in and when he saw her hand, he took her elbow lightly.

“Marcy?”

“It’s nothing. I just burned it a little.”

Without taking it from the water, Daryl took her wrist and turned the hand so he could see. “This is not _just a little_.”

There was no point in trying to talk this down anymore. They had the evidence right there in front of them. The puffy red palm, her thumb swollen and just as red. The other four fingers slowly turning blue under the cold water. Looking at it made the pain more real and she felt her legs shaking.

“It’s okay. I’ll keep it under water for a few more minutes and then I’ll cook after.”

“No. You won’t.” Daryl let her arm go but only to lay a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You’ll stay right here till it doesn’t hurt. You won’t take it out a second before that.”

Marcy looked at her boss. Since the first week in this house, she hadn’t thought of Daryl or Jesus as her bosses, but down to basics; that’s what they were. Neither of them had never made demands and if they needed her to do something more than they had agreed on, they had always asked and she knew that it was always okay to say no, not that she’d ever done it. The look on Daryl’s face now, was a new one. She’d never really talked at length with him and she was not going to argue now.

Daryl moved the pie to the kitchen island and covered it with a dishtowel.

The burning palm was not getting any better. At the moment it felt like the opposite. There was no need to try and hide it anymore and as if her body had realized it too, her legs gave in.

“Okay, okay. I got you.” Daryl had managed to catch her from behind before she collided with the floor. Swiftly, he lifted her small body up and carried her to her room.

“I’m okay. I can walk.” She’d felt like part of the family for a long time but he was still her employer and this was too much.

“I’m sure you can.” He placed her, sitting on the bed against the headboard, as if she was going to break at any second.

Her hand was burning and getting worse by the second. She needed something cold, and she needed it now. The adjoined bathroom had to be the best bet. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, but Daryl lifted them back up.

“Where’re you going?”

“The bathroom… My hand.” She tried again, but this time the pain took over and she could do nothing but hold her wrist and curl to her side.

“I know.” Daryl let go of her knees and stood up. “Don’t fall off. I’ll get you water.”

She heard the faucet in the bathroom and Daryl walking quickly around in there. The burning, was getting too much, she fought not to scream. The tears building in her eyes she had no control over.

“Here. Give it.”

She looked surprised at Daryl. He’d taken her wrist and was trying to move her hand.

“C’mon. Marcy.”

She let go and let him guide her hand in the bucket. Within seconds the pain became manageable.

“Thanks.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and lifted her upper body to sit against the headboard again.

“Will you be okay here for a second?”

Marcy nodded and Daryl left the room. She couldn’t figure out if this was awkward because she’d never _really_ talked to Daryl or because she was embarrassed. She’d always taken pride in being the quick-witted girl, who had everything under control, and now she’d just been carried to bed by her boss. A boss she’d been around almost every day for six months.

“Hey.” Daryl walked back in. “Take these.”

He showed her the pill glass before pouring two of the over the counter pain killers into her good hand. She swallowed them silently with a glass of water Daryl had brought too.

To Marcy’s surprise, Daryl pulled her desk chair closer and sat down.

“You don’t have to stay. I’m okay.”

Daryl smiled and shook his head. “That water will warm up and has to be changed. You almost passed out. I’m not leaving you alone.”

Again, there was clearly not room for arguments, so Marcy leaned back and prepared herself for a long time of awkward silence.

It only took five minutes for her to get enough of that. She hated silence… when she was not alone.

“Thank you for…” she looked at the bucket standing next to her on the mattress. “…this.”

“Sure. Burns are a bitch.”

She didn’t know how to continue, but then decided that there was no reason to stop being her outspoken self.

“So, this is awkward huh?” she smiled at Daryl and could have sworn that she saw his shoulders sink a little as he nodded. “I mean; in any other work-related accident I’m sure they would just be shipped off to the hospital and that’s it.”

Daryl sat up straight as if he was ready to stand. “You don’t need a hospital, I don’t think you will… but if you want, we’ll go.”

“No. No, I was just saying…” She looked down and considered her next words carefully.

“I’ll prefer to stay here if I can… I don’t like hospitals.”

There was a silence long enough that it had Marcy looking up at the man. He didn’t speak before they looked at each other.

“Yeah, me neither.”

Daryl rubbed his knee before leaning back in the chair again. Marcy wanted to ask about that but, she wasn’t even sure Jesus knew the whole story.

“Your knee?” She was getting on deep water here, she knew that, but Daryl just smiled and nodded before he looked at her.

“You?”

Marcy should have known that the question would come back to her.

“My mom.” Marcy hadn’t hid the story for anyone. She didn’t feel bad talking about it, there had just never been a reason to bring it up. It wasn’t something you’d bring up over dinner. “She died giving birth to my sister. I don’t remember much, I was only four, but the smell, you know?”

Daryl looked sad for her, but he was clearly thinking. Her hand was starting to burn again and she shifted a little, hoping that getting the water moving around it would help. It didn’t.

Daryl finally decided to talk. “I thought you were visiting your parents every Friday. Didn’t you say…?”

Marcy shifted again and hissed as her palm felt like the water was raising to a boil around it. “My dad, mostly. He’d in a nursing home, and sometimes his wife is there.”

Daryl nodded and got up. “Hang on. I’ll get another bucket.”

He left the room and soon after reemerged with a new bucket already filled. Putting her hand in the cold water, made Marcy’s shoulders able to relax. She hadn’t even noticed that she’d tensed up.

“Okay?”

Marcy smiled. “Okay.”

He sat down again, but this time it he didn’t let it go silent. “So… is she just your dad’s wife or is she family?”

Was she really having this conversation with _Daryl_ of all people. She’d joked with him from day one, some days they made comments as only siblings would, but she’d always thought that if she should end up talking about anything more, it would be with Jesus. It was Jesus, who asked if she’d had a good day and it was him who she’d had the longest conversations with. Not that there was ever any real content to them, but still.

“They have been married for three years. I’m still figuring out what she is.”

They shared a smile, before Marcy decided to continue down the same path.

“How about you? Do you have family?”

Daryl shook his head and Marcy instantly got the feeling that she’d turned a stone that didn’t needed turning.

“I have an older brother somewhere. I haven’t seen him since I joined the military... I have Paul.”

Lost siblings she could relate to. That moment, Marcy realized why she hadn’t told anyone about her mom in years. She _was_ hiding something, and she was not going to talk about her sister now.

“I guess it’s good you have him.” Marcy turned the conversation with a chuckle. “I’m sure you couldn’t have set your elbow yourself the last time. It was really messed up.”

Daryl snorted and silenced a laugh. “Yeah? Well, I guess it’s a good thing you have me then. Otherwise you would still be flopping around on the kitchen floor.”

While both of them were still laughing, Daryl got up and filled the first bucket again.

“Here. I’ll call Paul and make him bring some antiseptic cream for you.”

After Daryl had left the room, Marcy’s smile stayed fixed for a while. Thinking about how Daryl had acted to this, all protective, she couldn’t even imagine how Paul would handle it. It was a good thing that it wasn’t a serious injury.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment. I love those :-)


End file.
